Late Night Meetings
by DolbyDigital
Summary: It was slow going and it definitely wasn't easy, but her mother had once told her that the best things in life were always worth the hard work put into getting them.


Glancing up from the half written charms essay spread out across the table in the Gryffindor common, her eyes happened to catch sight of the clock and widened when she saw the time. She hurriedly began packing her things into the bag, not caring that her parchment would probably end up slightly battered or that he quill was most likely broken. Lavender looked up from her own homework, startled at her friend's sudden movement.

"Parvati? What're you doing?" She asked, a slight frown marring her features. It wasn't like her friend to be so careless, she thought as she pulled out her wand to clean the ink that had been sent flying across the small table in Parvati's haste to leave.

"I'm sorry, I just realised I'm going to be late for something – something important. I probably won't be back till late." She called the last part as she almost ran over to the portrait hole, nearly tripping over a group of first years playing exploding snap on the floor and sending cards everywhere.

With another apology thrown over her shoulder she was through the door and running down the corridor, seemingly not caring that she was out after curfew. She continued through the castle in this fashion, miraculously managing to avoid any prefects or staff members on her way.

It took her longer than she would have liked to reach her destination, but as she neared the Quidditch Pitch she slowed to a more sedate pace and attempted to regain control of her breathing.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't come," a smooth voice called over from the bleachers. "I was just about to leave, actually." He continued, rising from his seat and making her way towards her.

"I'm sorry..." She began, but let the sentence drift off in favour of regulating her breathing.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" He asked impatiently. He'd probably been waiting for her a while, and it was unseasonably cold for the beginning of April. At his unsubtle prompting, she left her bag by the Quidditch stand and followed him to the middle of the Pitch.

They had agreed to meet up on the eight of every month, and this was only the fourth time they were doing this. In a way she supposed she was quite lucky he had agreed to do this; he was somewhat reserved and he didn't seem to have made friends with any of the other Slytherins, regardless of the fact that they were now nearing the end of their sixth year at Hogwarts.

Slowly, she reached down trailing her fingers along the shaft before gripping it properly. He gave her a rare smile of encouragement before kicking off the ground and leaving her staring up at him as he flew in a circle around the Pitch. She stood as she watched him, broom grasped firmly in her right hand.

She took a deep breath before mounting her own broom and taking flight. She rose a lot less gracefully than he had, her borrowed broom jerking every so often and occasionally drifting to the right ever so slightly.

"If you're really serious about learning Quidditch, you should probably get your own broom," he called over from the other side of the Pitch. They didn't have to worry about noise out here – there was no one to hear them. "The school brooms aren't very good." He stated matter-of-factly, before leaning forward into a nosedive that had her holding her breath and gripping her broom in panic.

When he eventually pulled out of it – much too close to the ground, in her opinion – he was laughing, head thrown back and the most at ease that she had ever seen him. He turned his broom around and flew towards her, a smile still on his face.

They spent hours working on her flying skills – he'd tried to get her to practice with the Quaffle, but she wasn't yet confident enough on a broom to be able to focus on staying in the air _and_ the ball. He was being patient with her though, giving her enough time to learn how to fly properly before he gave her anything more challenging to do.

It was slow going and it definitely wasn't easy, but her mother had once told her that the best things in life were always worth the hard work put into getting them.


End file.
